The Art of Resilience

And the old man murmured “Try me at war” Days came They passed Hours They’d soundly Blossom Mankind Regulated Then Played Possum And the old man grinned crimsomly “Gentlemen try me at war” Seasons came They passed Fruits bared Wholesome At last The markets Flourished And rashed Again The hunger Settled For gasp With his eyes merely closed The old man insisted “Younglings your should try me at war” Weather became warmth Droughts made plentiful Hardships plagued comfort To become less sentimental Oranges faded, green, colorful, then badge Youth, who ever knew this old man might age Sincerely written And unconditional surrender amongst this page As the old man rested, he lay And to this day his tomb may say “Gentlemen try me at war”